A rambling train of thoughts about the universe and our micro solar system consisting of our dear Sun and other planets in a magnetic dance while we hurtle through space on the face of a rock and stare at flat screens where we attempt to connect while we detach.

New Year's Eve 2012

and the snow makes everything brighter and fresh.

The Last day of 2012

finds us in the US on the edge of a fiscal cliff
on the edge of our ability to comprehend how us as individuals can ever hope to make it better.
Hoping is a place to start and recommended however, do not take it personally
if it all goes to H*ll in a hand basket.
Guess that is a consolation.If you are not responsible, it is not your fault.

Meanwhile Fred has renamed Girly Girl, "Antithesis".
All she will say, is "NOOO" in her whiny cat voice.
She is so like Tommy, her brother or cousin, we are not quite sure.

I did not have the energy to get out and snap photos.
Shoveled for awhile, then rested.
The storm did produce considerable snow.
Looked a bit like these archival photos.
Happy New Year's Eve.

Recap 2012

We lost so many.

Mom, Levon, The Captain, other friends, our cat Gigi just died 12.23.12.
It seemed Mom brought Captain and Captain called up Gigi (she was his #1 cat girlfriend).

The world did not come to an end

and I told you there is no end and no beginning anyway.

I still am loyal to my preferred blogger list

With so many to choose from, just stroll through my blog list for friends around the world who will keep you in the know and challenge your senses.

Yes Dad, we are still working

He turned 90 and has been retired 30 years. He tells me he should have kept working.
So he wants to make sure I keep working
and he can't see me and will always worry that I am falling apart
and yes, that is as sweet as chocolate.
He hates ms as much as i do.
He was a marine and after watching ncis+ncis-la, i feel i understand his grit a bit better.

The garden was pretty good

Wish there was more time in the day, more energy, less disease, bugs, weeds
and H20 supply-demand mismatch.
Wish the blight had never shown it's ugly face here.
Last year was an extraordinarily warm, mild snowless winter in Vermont.
Hope the cold snap we just had killed some of the bugs.

The Election

was over publicized, over politicized, under relevant to my betterment. My weak attempts at questioning local political entities have become an energy suck, bad for MS. Will I stop typing?
You will have to pry my keyboard from my cold dead hands.

My Favorite blog post 2012

Ageism and the Empty Chair.

My latest Blog challenges

Have tried to post daily, keep content mildly fresh, demand that it please myself first and also not to wait until I feel it is perfect and polished. I take inspiration from all those bloggers who I follow.

Entering weekly Psalm Challenge hosted by Daily Athens.

The continuing adventures of Alice Karma in Interview with a Clone, serial blog novel.

Next concert on my list

Midnight ramble once the spring comes

Most surprising thing I did this year

Like my Mother, I started painting. She started oil painting after her mother died. The images that came to me may have been from past lives or just my free imagination. When I mapped a timeline of our family and key events, I could better see my parents as people, pretty amazing people who held it together. I got a more 3 dimensional view of my grandparents I scantly recall.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Snow coming

6-15 inches

predicted in the VT/NY Champlain Valley
maybe more in the mountains
depending on where in the Northeastern US you are.
So the Ski industry is salivating, the plow truck drivers are resting up,
we are taking what comes and rolling with it as much as we can.

Christmas was nice and quiet,
quieter without Mom on the phone,
recapping where everyone was and what they were doing.
Every Christmas forever was connected with Mom somehow,
We actually trimmed the tree beforeso I could tell her on our Sunday call.

When we visited once,
Mom told me, "I hope you are taking notes!"
It surprised me, said with almost a threatening tone.
She was always so tolerant of circumstance gone south,
plans gone awry, expectations failed.
Now I realize she was a victim of institutionalization,
even my ultra tolerant Mom. Even the strong but quiet woman
who bore 7 children without a whine or a wimper.
Reminding me we have to completely revamp our eldercare before the baby boomers need it.
Oh wait, too late.

First step,
At Adult day programs, call it the "Club", serve faux drinks,
replace all the Glenn Miller with Steve Miller and
look at truly multigenerational centers.
Next step. Do you know it is up to each of us to create the milieu that meets the needs of our individual community? I like the idea of a virtual adult day,
we could attend from home and avoid the bumpy upland travel.

SRV Music videos posted this beautiful gem of Stevie Ray Vaughn & Band.
I was so sad once I discovered SRV, he was already gone. Perhaps that is why he
left too soon, like some other truly gifted artists.
Happy Christmas Eve for those who observe.
For those who do not, turn up the volume and enjoy the show.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Psalm Challenge 85

Christmas is coming, Daylight growing,Gifts are flowing, The tree is up.The Sun above us, a good provider,shines his gifts of warmth and power.In the Heavens, all around us, lies the home of all the Justice.We Pray for Peace.We ask for Mercy, We want Salvation, to rise up through our feet from the earthen ground.Rainy days, brings flowers, food, We take time out to nap.Later gather the bounty in our garden,We know no money could ever buy.We ache for our country,
Sometimes afflicted
with the opposite of
truth and peace.

We pray salvation,
comes on swiftly,
slaying the greedy, evil and arrogant beasts.

how else would peace be possible except by the death of evil?Can we pray for such a death sentence to evil?

On Earth, in a little beach house, slept a normal human, non clone named Alice Karma. She slept very deeply tonight, after being hit by a freight train of new information. She was the victim of an overzealous mother who did what she thought was right at every junction. Perhaps it was right.

In the beginning, Susan Wolf suspected that cloning was becoming more than science. The politics was a part she was removed from, until she stumbled onto the plans of certain powerful people living in Switzerland. She found out their true motivation was not for good, but for creating slaves for labor, and organ donors to harvest. They pressured her to say she was successful and they saw the child who was the result. Susan gave the leaders phony documents loaded with math and scientific jargon. She then returned to the US to begin planning her next phase of undercover island living and dabbling in science.

Susan never wanted to put Alice in the middle. She did bear and rear Alice after all. Alice had a deep affection for her Mom and vice versa.

So why did Susan feel compelled to maintain the lie?

Alice woke up in a start. Her eyes stinging from the sunlight streaming in her window. She shook her head and breathed deeply.

Her life was being clarified, normalized instantly without knowing what normal is. And it felt fine, another breath, cleansing out all the oddity of being a clone, no one else knew right now. It was a secret she held with her Mother, her biological vehicle mother and environmental/nurturing/mentor mother. Alice would never again question her mother’s motivations about what she did, lying, posthumous confessions. Her whole life was coming into focus, instead of the old blurry Alice.

Alice shared the letter with Georgia. Georgia was visibly shaken which in turn shook up Alice. Georgia was more like a mother than Susan. When she implanted the embryo, Georgia was certain she was doing the first clone birth. Even still, she was resistant to doing the procedure. Susan basically bribed Georgia with a long term commitment and a very high salary and expense account. In turn, they could only leave the island at prescribed times. Security was tight.

As it turns out, there was no clone, no documents, no miraculous wonder of modern science in the 2060’s.

There were criminal elements afoot, who trolled constantly for the clone data. There was a bounty for who brings any information forward.

Meanwhile, on Mars, Gigi Fairweather stopped by the infirmary to check on her niece, Dawn Fairweather. Dawn was delirious and sick with fever. They were down to their last antibiotics. Dawn had a kidney infection which threatened to shut down her kidneys. Gigi knew Dawn’s father Tommy would be furious Dawn was here, on Mars. Another disastrous outcome with Gigi, Tommy’s sister. The problem is, Dawn stowed away against Gigi’s advice. Once they took off, she was on her way too.

Gigi looked at her watch and had one more solar Earth day before her next show with Alice. She grew to enjoy the discussions and back and forth debates over the air (and space) waves punctuated with laughter and applause from Mars.

Gigi still did not know the truth about Alice, why she looked an awful lot more like Gigi than like Susan Wolf her clone mother, but not.

A supply ship was due any day. A day later, the transport rescue ship would take them all home.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Wondeful link on you tube for Sunday afternoon...
We saw a documentary last night on public tv about Frank Glover and Claude Sifferlen

My 2 new favorite Jazz artists.
And one has already left us.
My judgement of Jazz is if it makes me feel without cringing, shaking my head, wondering where they came up with that beat.
Good jazz to me never makes me wonder who is playing...
It is all about the feeling

Saturday, December 15, 2012

The swallows found a home here,
in our back shed,
we never had the heart to shut them out,
when they come back after flying
thousands of miles to their temple of life,
their nests where they have 2-3 consecutive nests full of babies,
they chirp their relief and gratitude, their faith tested.

They are grateful for the bugs that
annoy us and get in our eyes and bite us.
We are grateful they eat as many bugs as they do.
We wonder if, after we are gone, will someone bulldoze the old shed,
failing to see the significance of swallows?

I saw the sunrise
I am in awe.
Our total, our being, our bodily temple, all comes
From the Sun.

That is just how it ended up working when Girly Girl moved in.
Tommy,Gigi and Sean are downstairs,
Girly Girl is upstairs mostly, occasionally strolling
or running through the downstairs to
surf for food,
or nap.
About Girly Girl: we took a couple fuzzy pictures that are not worth sending.
We wanted to show Girly's Meridien's Mom how she is blending in with the pride, her first family,
by the fire in harmonious bliss, and that has not happened yet. The blending may never quite happen but at least they all have their respective "places" as cats and people will do.
Instead of photos, thought I would write this post and dedicate to the Photos not taken category.
Girly Girl is never still, our camera and phone always somewhere else.
Then I thought, Girly's Meridien's Mom knows all too well what she looks like, her soft white and black furry head charging at you full speed at an inopportune moment,
or her picky claws saying pick me up, then she says no, then she squeals no,
and then starts purring loudly.
I remembered how I secretly wanted to keep her when we gave her away.
Glad to have her back. She is so sweet.
Her obnoxious little whiny habits,
irresistible.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Levon Street Team is on the prowl on you tube looking for a great Friday night music link.
It did not take me long to find this great tribute song to Levon Helm.
I envisioned Levon startin' up the GTO with his little woman & they take off for the city.

For Ramble tickets in Woodstock, NY or merchandise for last minute shopping...

I really like this link above that is part of my core curriculum for understanding town politics,
rules and procedures. Sometimes people throw around terms. Law is particularly
snarly with such words, and strings of words: Latin, English and the like.of course medicine is similar but i can speak and feel comfortable in that worldi understand the order, the protocol logic
Some things are common sense and they are also rules of law.
At the end of the day, with infractions and Shenaniganzas, the common man or woman can do little to affect town fathers' behaviors.

Friday finds us in extended stick season in Vermont at the height of darkness...
Today is a week, 7 days before, you know, the end times and when the daylight gets longer again.
The end times could be an event or just a shift, a schizm, a bump in the road.
As I have surmised before, end times or not, we are always suffering, sustaining, rejoicing and accepting changes, always and for ever.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Alice woke up with a dry parched mouth and a pounding headache. She spied the empty brown bottle. One Japanese beer was all she could stomach any more. Maybe that was for the best.

She must have passed out next to the letter that started a crying jag that shivered the timbers of their island beach house. Alice strained to recall anything but Margo, the name, Margo, what did it mean, who was she?

She realized she never really even made it to the letter, just the envelope, just the thought of her mother, her clone mother, would write her a letter, make her carry it around and put that load on Alice, too. Secrets, on top of secrets. Alice wanted to burn the damn letter, the one that had her off her game, emotional, out of control…with…feeling.

Georgia checked in earlier, left some cold cereal, juice, fresh towels. She never saw the letter, and would never have known about it if Alice had just burned it, right then, as she impulsively wanted to do. Alice waited a split second and blew her chance to be a daring, cavalier gambler. Instead, she is calculating, scientific, like her Mom, predictable, objective, boring.

Alice rubbed her eyes, took a swig of juice, and read the letter.

This time the Dear Alice thing didn’t even garner a sneeze, let alone tears.

She looked at the empty beer bottle and swore to herself, “never again!”.

Dear Alice,

You have been the shining light in my life, my everything, my purpose, my chance to make my parents proud, my country, my sciences that I loved more than a spouse, or my parents.

As I grew as a scientist, there were certain boundaries I had to consider, evaluate, analyze.

(of course, Alice thought, cloning? The ultimate ethics challenge-never seemed to bother Mom)
When I was in basic training, readying for the space program, I was in the program with Gigi Fairweather. (Alice’s interest perking up).
Before we went to space, we had the option of saving embryos.

It was generally accepted that we might be rendered sterile in the radiation of the trip and the risks associated with the early settlements. So they gave us a catalog of likely sperm donors and we ordered up children to be frozen if we made it back.(Alice is more puzzled than ever)

I never made it to outer space even though I flew plenty. Gigi wanted to go all the way to Mars, even back in school. I preferred cloning plants and monkeys and trying to make humans. Switzerland offered me a great deal of money and a state of the art research lab. We worked for 5 years.Alice heard this all before.

We failed.

Alice’s heart skipped a beat. Like a flip flop. She paused breathing. Then began again. She checked her own pulse. “I am alive.” she thought.

She read on.

We knew we failed. Yet we could not show nothing to the Swiss government, they were so on edge, too hopeful and insistent. By then I had developed arthritis and had terrific pain in spite of treatments. I knew even if I wanted to clone, I could not give you, or any child, what I knew would be a painful condition.

So my faithful midwife Georgia, thinking she had planted a clone, actually planted an embryo I had removed from Gigi’s cache. No one knew.

Not one single person.

Alice dropped the letter, stunned now, past emotions, past understanding, her life based on a lie, a white lie, or a terminal ego or the well meaning of a caring mother surrogate.Gigi was her mother. Alice was being interviewed by her mother living on Mars who does not know it. Alice’s mother Susan lied. Alice was more alone than ever. Once unique and suffering being the only one, and isolated. Now she is like the rest of the human race, finally like everyone else, and no one to tell, no one to care.

Monday, December 10, 2012

Next Stop: Mars

The red planet,

did we get so bored with the moon 40 years ago?
or did someone want the funding more?
On the radio, I heard an astronaut for Apollo 17 talk about the last trip to the moon
40 years ago...
He said Some kids don't even know we went to the moon...Well, private contractors are fixing that...

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Each week I am trying to be more inquisitive about the Psalm coming up.
At first I wondered how I would keep track of the number, could I even understand those mystical sounding songs written by Asaph? or who really? How can thousands of years go by and something is not lost in the translation? Especially with the inherent bias of the translators.
It helps to read the other entries, hosted on the website below. The photos, extraordinary.
The songs after all, will mean something different to all of us as individuals. They leave some mystery for us to be inquisitive about. Clever, of course, since we humans so often ignore the obvious or direct communication.
This week I managed to research on Monday and have pretty much thought about the meaning, the various interpretations, the co-occuring modern wars, conflicts, uprisings and random acts of senseless violence near and afar on our fair planet. Wish me luck with my poem.
for other entries:Psalm Challenge...

In my tribe

i saw my father buckle

under the weight of poverty
created by too many children
not enough to go around,
well,
nothing much extra i should say
we never knew we were poor
in my tribe

my mother worked like a dog for men
who took credit for her know how and skill
and they smiled at her
and that was enough for mom
i love her so

in my tribe
we came from the old country where
the bastards drove us out
took our land
killed our men
for religion, land and money
oh and
power

in my tribe
we got stronger
with each passing blow
each setback,
each
hungry moment

i saw the photos of jews
killed by nazi's,
read the stories
of germans gone bad.
my relatives
my father was caught up in WW 2,
sailing the South Pacific while his brother and
other neighbors fought
against the people who drove his grandfather
from prussian farmlands.
we were danish now i know
it can get confusing sometimes
whose tribe you are really in

in my tribe
i sometimes imagine how genghis khan conquered
some of my people.
is he also my blood?

Blood aside,
in my tribe
we were taught to respect and love
honor and obey,
fight against oppression, poverty, hunger and shame.

I read the story of Ezekiel and foreseeing nazi plunders
fearing the end of abrahams children
i finally started to see the blending of judaism and christianity
and why it is so despised
by
the despicables.
they can never win
against
my tribe
or the tribes of God
they can and will try

as i look out at the milky way and see my mother's essence and hear her voice in my mind say
"milky way"
I am reminded of my tribe
and the faith she gave me
and she said
go,
go see the world.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Great video link and tribute to this wonderful jazz artist who I bonded with as a young girl when my brother put Take five on the family wooden console record player. Warm and fresh, delightful, unforgettable.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Alice knew today was the day, the day the envelope would be opened. Alice carried the envelope all over and now, seeing the name of the nameless clairvoyant through a tiny tear, she knew there was no turning back.

Her mother always said the clairvoyant had no name, adding to the mystery of the story.

In fact, Alice strained now to remember the story she heard when Susan was tired, feeling vulnerable, down on her work. Susan would say, “It was meant to be, the Seer said.”

The Seer, now Alice knew as Margo, was nearly as mysterious with only one name.

The commercial break was nearly over.

Normal could wait.

Alice was going to stick her neck out, gamble, for the first time, well, ever.

Her heart pounded, she made a conscious effort to breathe deeper, as she went off script,

Alice jumped in, ”I have a surprise.” and she paused, eager to continue but looking for the nod from Gigi. It was her show after all. Alice was respectful of that much. They were the ones stuck on Mars, that red desert island.

Gigi shrugged. Looking puzzled at her microphone. She closed her eyes, as if that could help her explain the mystery that this clone girl was cooking up. Gigi did not like surprises. She preferred as few variables at any point in time. Zero or less was her preference. “Go ahead, “ Gigi said hesitatingly.

“I have an envelope from my clone Mom, Dr. Susan Wolf. Today I am going to open it. (Alice cannot hear the applause on Mars) In these years after Mom is gone, well they have been very difficult, like anyone losing a Mom, she was my Mom and Dad in one. It is hard to explain, like I have told you before.”

On Mars, a mesmerized crowd shared a private moment, the envelope they imagined. It had been so long since they had seen an envelope, and the emotions it could contain.

Gigi was equally as mesmerized, and what of this surprise, why now, why open the envelope here, now?

Alice thought the same thing.

Alice ripped open the envelope so the Mars contingent would have no doubts.

“My first discovery is that my mother reveals a fortune teller’s name who Mom knew and who predicted my birth as the first clone.

Gigi plays along, “And her name is…?”

“Margo” Alice answered.

The Applause went on until the signal split up, solar flares and static took over, and Alice and Gigi signed off.

Alice, relieved by the interruption, took her envelope to her room where she planned to read it with another Japanese beer. She savored the moment, and at the same time it was part of her growth and development. Her Mom wrote her a letter. So rare even on Earth here. Handwritten, in the old cursive style, hard to read at times.

What did the rest of Susan’s letter say? Gigi was uneasy a little. Trying to recall what she and her old roomate Susan might have shared. Was it coming out in a posthumous note? Gigi shook her head, no, there would be nothing incriminating. After all, Susan and Gigi went to college in 2040, not like the kids of today, 2064 that was more like Alice’s generation.

God reeled in the slithering fallen angels, who are powerful and yet lacking in compassion.
As the powerful fallen angels looked for their purseful of rewards,
they were handed great heavy trunks and they revelled in their deception.

The young girl was saddened as she surveilled a transaction, was it corruption?
God pulled her aside and assigned her a special angel, who washed her, fed her
and rested her mind of where will I sleep? eat? be nurtured?
She asked God why he rewarded the fallen angels, cold greedy sinners.

God smiled at the simple misunderstanding so common among earthlings,
It was not gold young lady,
It was a sack full of your sadness, your hunger, the heavy weight on the mind of a young orphan girl.
She smiled as she nodded off.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Our "new" old cat is settling in,
though I am observing
Subroutines are not easy to create or re-create.

Girly Girl, as we now call her,
Is implacable at times, briefly inconsolable,
then it passes.
I remember that is how she was when she was Whitney,
When she lived here as a fledgling kitten.

I watch as she circles the edge of a room,
scanning,
eyes open,
taking it all in,
where are the things, other cats,
circle again.

We pet her as much as we can
and reassure her,
still she is not to be reassured except by herself.
She is all cat.

The subroutine, the new routine of Girly Girl
Is evolving as we speak.
She develops new areas of tolerance, daring to go a little farther each day.
Tommy is jealous and yet he too, is adjusting,
(having known her once as Whitney, his sister, 12 years ago)
now he is never quite accepting
of Girly Girl.

Transparency

Iwas looking for the invisible transparent thing,
Harder to see than a needle in a haystack,
It was like looking for a hay blade in a haystack,
Everything blended as one.

Open Transparent meetings would be the law of the land.
Did you see through that one too?
They would pay your lawyer, if you win,Guess that means the lawyer gets paid either way,Hey, why do we need a lawyer anyway, if it is soTransparent?Do you remember school before I pads and DVD's,We had Transparencies, They still use them.Transparencies were an interesting concept too,You put words and images in a transparent film.What gets through makes the image. It is not 100 percent transparent.I want the 100 percent transparent government.Not the one where I have to go haystack to haystackwondering what I am even looking for,its bewilderment obscuring anytransparency.

November Light,
Sun Rays low and long,
Stretching to reach us.
Clouds the norm in November.
We have actually had a lot of sunny days,
Black Friday an odd phenomenon,
Selling stuff to ready consumers
willpower weakened by the
November Light.

Thanksgiving

I will never forget
The grade school images, crayon smells as we colored images of Thanksgiving
turkeys, pilgrims, native americans, leaves, corn stalks, pumpkins,
then we pasted them up on the giant windows of Columbus school.
we were told they all sat down at one table, long ago
peacefully,
coexisting.
The pilgrims in our school stories never got sick, or died, nor did their
native american guides. Nobody fought or struggled, or was really real.
Those story pilgrims were as 2 dimensional as the colored construction paper.
I want the real story,
the sickness, death, the struggles extreme, the interpersonal struggles
over power, property, money or love.
How quickly did the native americans contract deadly illnesses because they had no natural immunity?
Were there pilgrims who secretly prayed for return to European civilization of the day?
How many did they bury of the pilgrims before they had the Thanksgiving harvest?

Fast forward to today:
I give thanks for all we have and hope you have a wonderful feast per the tradition in the U.S.
mary

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate
Here is a link for free Joe music in case you wondered,
He is a Blues Titan, gifted guitarist, singer, collaborator, historian, all around nice guy who loves music and he really knows those blues...

last night is NCIS x 2 nightCBS has options to watch online toowell we still watch the shows a second time to get the whole plot figured out...mostly.Then Vegas is on which once again we will watch re runs later online.abc cancelled Last Resort for which I am deeply disappointed We will finish watching all 13 shows. It is a masterfulpolitical science military civilian thriller.other than that, after cancelling our satellite tv, we watch pbs cooking shows,you tubes and the cats and bloggingTwitter has been fun for me, randomly landing on photos like this one.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Monday

back to work.
cats revert to all day naps,
after a can of this and can of that, scoop of this, petting, treats.

Yesterday we were encouraged seeing Tommy tearing out at full speed,
behind him, on his heels, was Meridien aka Whitney aka Girly Girl.
She apparently impressed Tommy so much he pretty much stopped stalking her yesterday
(these are cats i am talking about).
I unconsciously called the "new" cat Girly Girl.
She always was, well, Girly-like. Pretty white and black cat. Soft fur, affectionate.
I really started to think about cats having subroutines in their brains,
like Whitney had one subroutine when she lived with us, then Meridien had another for the majority of her life. She responded more to calling her Whitney here, but still not as strong as Girly-Girl. She likes this new name, to go with this new subroutine.

Fred dug a few more carrots last night and pronounced the garden closed for the winter.
Thursday is Thanksgiving (U.S.) and time for feasting and celebrating,
giving thanks to the harvest, to God, and the forces that give us our bounty.
The cats will give thanks for scraps of turkey.
For now we go to work to earn the bread,
it is
Monday

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Alice woke up that day a little late. She missed the breakfast that Georgia served. Now Alice was on her own.

She rummaged through the food storage unit, nibbling, grazing on loose fruits and a bag of nuts she found. She had to hurry to get ready for the live interplanetary radio show with Gigi. She washed it all down with a swig of Japanese beer. ‘Whoa!”, Alice shook her head as the bitter powerful brew bit her all the way through. She took another drink, this time, immune to the bite.

The interviews had become more routine now, a masterful choreography by Gigi and brilliant follow through by Alice. From the beginning they both added details from life: life’s lessons, heartaches, triumphs, and sharing their Normalcy.

“Normal is good,” Last interview started with Gigi setting the subject. Ok, thought Alice, normalcy is the subject, I can do this.

“Absolutely,” Said Alice, and she proceeded to do a dissertation on Normalcy, Humdrum, Routine-isms, Boring lifestyles that lead to long and fulfilling +/- boring lives, “There can come a day, Gigi, when your life returns to normalcy, and you will be grateful.”

Gigi replied, “Affirmative.”Even though Gigi felt she really wanted more challenges, like being the first long term woman occupant of Mars.

They broke for commercials.

Alice had been fondling an envelope all day. It was the one with the letter from her mother, written long ago, perhaps meant to be not so public?

She peered in the ripped corner of the envelope…the..unknown..fortune teller…she could see no more…Alice pried a little more.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

am thinking of the people of Israel hoping for peace,as I read this Psalm,about hoping God will come soon,with only tears for food,I thought of this poem I wrote awhile ago.Link to Psalm Challenge

After Awhilefirst draftby Mary E. GerdtAfter Awhile

After Awhile,Things will be
better,

Time will have passed,Regrets will have faded,

Sorrows
will dry afterThe crying,

You will feel better,Not like your
dying.

After while,When your back home

And safe in your
placeWhere you can roam,

And be one with nature,Feel carefree
again,

After awhile,When we are older,

And we are
settled,And we are bolder,

We’ll reach for the sky,Like we did
before,

We’ll lose all our fear,That closes the door.

After
awhile,The sorrow will fade,

That tugs at our heart strings,That
God alone made,

To keep us as humans, not a machine,Who is hurt by a
word, or an unkind deed.

Who heals when times get better and then,Who
bleeds and cries when losing a friend.

No mechanical device, we are flesh
and blood,And tears that we cry,Rain down from above,And fall from
our faces down to the ground,And wash off the fairies who watch us and
frown,Sad at all of our earthly emotions,They stay close at hand when
you’re feeling so lonely.

Never think you are alone in the middle of the
night,Or think your small world is causing a fright,Open up and see the
rest of the worldIs on your doorstep and ready to right,

All the bad
ills and bad feelings you have,May you see a world not so bad.When you
are feeling fear and evil intentions,Look at a flower and its simple
invention,

It is not so simple after all,The flower can lift spirits
after a fall,The scent takes us to places long gone,With the passing of
time,After while,Sorrow will be done.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Legacy

is a powerful concept.
Ideally must be
simple,
condensed,
to the point,
and yet
it takes a Lifetime
to
create.

Judging by the
bad boys in the news
(you know who-why waste ink on their
creepy name/image),
aLegacy
can be ruined
by
one or more bad acts,
or deeds and or
a scandal,
that becomes public.
(ethics ? does that mean if no one knows, legacy unscathed?)

Also certain,
If one at first hearsScandal
and it is later
retracted...
The impact of the Scandal
sears a pathway in the observer's head,
never to be undone byretraction....

Monday, November 12, 2012

Fred got 2 free tickets to see Arlo Guthrie in Rutland, VT last night
at the Paramount,
a stately old friendly venue
where we got to see the son of Woody Guthrie do a tribute
to his Father and life in general,
a rambling fantastic journey,
I started 37 years ago when I saw him and Pete Seeger at the Mississippi River Festival.
I was 17.
Tonight seat #17.
He was great tonight, his music disciplined, precise and loose at the same time,
His dad's tunes, tunes of his dad's era, tunes of Arlo's era,
stories intermingled, a biography,
and understated, perhaps as a shield,
he lost his wife a few weeks ago,
and they were so infinitely close,
so rarely perfectly matched,
it would seem he would be paralyzed by this,
and yet, he performed as I am sure she would want,
the music that they shared.
This video link is one she filmed and I found on you tube.
So if you get a chance to see Arlo's show, you will be truly enthralled
with his music and musing.Thanks to Seven Days Newspaper for 2 tickets to this great show!

Again I find myself at the graveyard of my ancestors,
Only a generation away
Still a forever lost opportunity,
They died at about the time I was born
My Grandfather died 28 Years before I was born.
I wanted to sit them all down,
What was life like then?
What did you sacrifice?
How was your faith tested?
I knew my Mother's sacrifices,
although,
even her,
Sometimes mysterious,
what did she give up?
How was her faith tested?
I remember a book she wrote in during WW 2. It held men's names,
Later I realized, they were boy's names, boys whose names she met at the USO
in St. Louis., the big city just north of Fort Leonard Wood.
Many of the boys names were crossed off.
I knew that meant they died,
Who of them might have died clutching a photo of
sweet Betsy?
I read Psalm 79.
My mother's words again to me,
Do not die without faith,
Trust me she said.
Her mother, Fanny, died without faith, she said.
The band song, The Weight, in my head again,
"Take a load off Fanny."

Mom said Fanny was having a heart attack, dying.
She was terrified without faith.
So take it from my ancestors, even if your days look dim,
Have Faith,
Mom always knew best.

Friday

is probably a good day to talk aboutConsciousness,although Today,being the end of the traditional work week,I am running out ofProverbial steam.thought I would post a link to interestingresearch and discovery about

Noetics,http://noetic.orgread the website and give if you can,you will see it come back,10 fold??

it all started with a man flying to the moon,
walking around,
then flying home, without tether, Free, yet
Connected and he felt that tug at his heart strings,
pulling him, pulling him along.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

always had a little trouble with deadlines,just finished psalm challenge 78Finally, for the first time from the inside, I stared at the walls of my grandfather and grandmother’s house, a mystery to me since I was too young to live here, the ownership lost to still fuzzy details, unknown to me circumstances.

Hoping for clarity, or perhaps a sign, information, a lesson, was it there, in the walls? Thinking I might develop a feeling, see something that sparked a connection. There was nothing shown to me, no sign.

At the graveside, when my mother’s ashes joined her parents and her brother, it was her feeling that I felt, her desire to return to the loving arms of her family, especially her father who she lost abruptly when she was 5 on the eve of the Great depression of 1930. Mom finally found the answers she had been looking for on the material plane.

Her faith shaken again and again, she emerged stronger at every trial. Teaching us the lesson we were looking for in the beginning, now with no Mom to share the story with, or

Friday, November 2, 2012

sometimes i think, what will the music of the baby boomer adult day programs?no doubt, up on cripple creek is right on up there.this version, so rare now. so many of these men are in heaven's bandwe are grateful for links like this one, to the past

NASA's New Horizons: A Heart from Pluto

Lake Champlain

the challenges of freedom

My words were simply, "I cannot comprehend this." when told an excuse that my absentee ballot hadn't been mailed because.....I lost the rest. I filled out the absentee ballot form. Finally I wrote to the town front porch forum. Here it is:

School Revote

MARY GERDT

I did not receive an absentee ballot for the recent revote of the school vote. Apparently none were sent? Or did you receive one and mine was omitted? I prefer to vote at home. I signed the paper for absentee ballots. The Secretary of state said it is up to me to enforce the election rules. It is up to me to ask the town clerk to explain, go to court if need be. No, my body cannot take any more of that. My vote was not counted. If you like that policy, carry on. Just don't presume to know all the reasons I do not want to vote out in public. I thought that is what absentee ballots were all about.

update 5.19.15 follow up post to front porch forum

Several issues back I inquired if others in Monkton did not receive absentee ballots for the town school budget re-vote. I got no response. I do not interpret that as apathy or a conspiracy against me, although I am sorely tempted to take the easy way out. It is stuck in my craw, the assistant town clerk (why did we need an assistant?) said we talked it over and it was too late to send the absentee ballots out. Now I will reiterate I do not have the energy to fight this town over not being able to vote on a budget that affects the taxation on our property. I will submit to the reader that if you tolerate this, it is a slippery slope. Oh, and fair warning: when you fill out the form from the Secretary of State of Vermont for absentee voting for the year, and send it to the Town clerk or assistant, don't expect that you will receive the ballots as requested. Then when you don't, guess "they" decided there wasn't enough time. My vote was never counted.

What if you could help tell the history of 1960's #NYC #GreenwichVillage? You can, See Richard...

Monkton Chronicles

Monkton Chronicles,

November 2016

Thanksgiving Week

It's been 7 months since I have put out an article about this town. Pipeline Fighters, Political Sparring, Health and Fatigue have dominated my summer. Now Summer and Fall are behind us. The first snow a gentle morning. A new America is forming, baby boomers aging, parties losing, party winning. Not worth crying about, little snowflakes, we all melt away in the end. We scraped up what silver we had to pay the taxman. Narrowly paid, avoiding being pinched by zero tolerance tax collectors. shortly after that our 11 year old pellet stove died. It was a good run. Fred and son installed our new stove. toasty warm. hopefully you are warm wherever you are. best wishes, meg

April 2016

4.30.16

I have neglected my lonely Chronicles, Times are tough in this idyllic state of chaos. Vermont, of course, is what I mean. Vermont and Vermonters, genuine and those who "identify as Vermonters" can take credit for the steady as he goes, In full command, Silver Warrior, Bernie Sanders. I predicted he will win the nomination. I still believe that. Locally the steadily advancing Northern front of the Canadian free for all Gaz pipeline. They are carving their way to the Tree that they killed, in fact, many hardwoods. They chipped them, all. Come on down and look. I don't know what the answer is. Addie could only stay up in that tree so long. We warriors for the planet feel we have been here before. And hope we may stop the madness that supports fracking in #Alberta. Town of Monkton, Vermont has a website if you care to peruse the gas pipeline stuff. It all makes me sick.

Spring is being her usual stubborn self in the North Country. The Sunlight has been marvelous. Code word: Sunlight = Arctic air...brr.

May will start a little warmer and badly needed rain. That will wash the pollen down, and start the greening...A Spring delight here. Brown to Green. All for now. Have a Wonderful May. meg

March 2016

3.18.16

It's been awhile since I have posted in the land of sparse news.

There was a "Quintessential Town Meeting" in Monkton, Vermont that I have once again boycotted. That's part of the plan, you know, to steer the town business the way of the chosen few. I gave up, quit, starvation of my political desires. Forget it. I can't. It's hard to explain all this. You may think I am being whiny, intolerant. ignorant...

No, I am frustrated. How can one person one vote by transferred to the mass in the school auditorium? If you're still confused, that, too is part of the plan. No wonder I haven't written updates in the Chronicles.

Keep tuned...spring is on the way. meg

February 2016

2.10.2016

Still more or less an open winter with spotty snowfalls in the Champlain Valley. Some cold air on the way to take us below zero.

We are now on the shorter side of winter. The daylight hours changing subtly at first, then all at once you notice. The snow that is lacking reminds me of how reflective snow is. South of here, blizzards and hurricanes. Guess it's nice for us to have a break.

The election timeline is fascinating, for a few seconds. Then it falls into a monotony. The major media outlets rake in the dough...strange that donations go to elect people. Or that a woman (Carly Fiorina) was excluded from the New Hampshire debate because of polls that in New Hampshire, are grossly inaccurate. Women were not outraged at Carly's being stifled or Sarah Palin being called dumb. There should be so surprise when Hilary is squashed like in 2008.

Enough for now. Healing with Knight Salve #5, probiotics, sunshine.

January 2016

01.21.16

Every winter in Vermont is tough, just for different reasons. This year we were not hardened off, so to speak. All of the sudden it got cold, over and over. Eek. Finally got to this chore. The town as relates to me, We sent in forms for absentee ballots. Why do we have to do this every year? I am still experimenting with salves, and other healing regimens. Time is the factor we surely cannot control. Today, breaks of sunlight is warm in a south window.We fight the pipeline, the state brought a stacked deck to the public service board of Yes.

All for now.

December 2015

12.31.2015

Our unusually mild weather has turned to more typical cold, rain and snow.

The last day of 2015 finds me upright and breathing. Skin in the healing mode, aided by salves and soaps I have put together. Avoiding the mainstream products when I can.

We had a low keyed Christmas. Turning in early for New Year's. Hope everyone is safe tonight. Tomorrow is 2016.

That is an interesting number, isn't it? meg

12.7.2015

The Sun is lower in the sky, air is colder. We are enjoying the warmer December. There will be colder days ahead. Have been blogging, tweeting, and attempted to get my Samsung phone to coordinate with clouds, kindles, PC's and a rusty brain.

News came hard that a friend, my blogger mentor, Herrad Ford had passed away after an illness. Please say a prayer for her husband who is hurting right now. I am working on a tribute post. It will come to me when it is good and ready. Sleep helps with expression. Does that make sense? I am tired. Done for the day. Well, done except for watching Scorpion and NCIS-LA, 2 of my favorite shows right now.

by Ralph Waldo Emerson

“For each thorn, there's a rosebud...for each twilight — a dawn... for each trial — the strength to carry on,For each stormcloud — a rainbow... for each shadow — the sun... foreach parting — sweet memories when sorrow is done.”

Quotes

Not sure where I found these."Suppose there are no hypothetical situations.""When your horse dies, get off."my lawyer haiku:"Lawyering,Back and forth they go,Poor folks suffer, losing time,Property all gone."

Gadget

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Quotes

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear -- not absence of fear."--Mark Twain, 19th-century American writer

“Security is mostly a superstition. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outrightexposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”--Helen Keller, 20th-century American writer, lecturer, advocate

"The vision of justice is an eternal long march to the Promised Land of the good life for all.” Justin Dart, Jr.

Wisdom of Kahlil Gibran

"Yesterday we obeyed kings and bent our necks before emperors. But today we kneel only to truth, follow only beauty, and obey only love."

Fear

"There is the fear that we shan't prove worthy in the eyes of someone who knows us at least as well as we know ourselves. That is the fear of God. And there is the fear of Man --fear that men won't understand us and we shall be cut of from them."
Robert Frost

Folks

In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales. --Shak. [1913 Webster]

Quote(s) of the Millenium

"Man, like a tree in the cleft of a rock, gradually shapes his roots to his surroundings, and when the roots have grown to a certain size, can't be displaced without cutting at his life." Oliver Wendell Holmes"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us."
- Oliver Wendell Holmes

Ready for Garth Hudson..from Levon Helm Studios twitter feed...

Music Links: Levon Helm Website & has the Midnight Ramble schedule

Official Blog of Mary E. Gerdt

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for links and other people's stuff, i will note that.

this blog is not profitable and content posted is

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Welcome

and feel free to move about the cabin. The ride may be bumpy. Some of this stuff is mine. Some stuff is other people's links-please read & enjoy, I work for free. Please do not rip off anything and sell it. Please do buy people's music listed here to support their music. If you do not want something posted here please tell me. Have a great day in the blogosphere. Mary